Fireworks
by TKCat
Summary: One flash. One second. One fatal choice... It's funny how taking the gift of sight ruins an entire life. "I can't see..."


**Fireworks**

**By TKCat**

**Summary: One flash. One second. One fatal choice... It's funny how taking the gift of sight ruins an entire life. "I can't see..."**

**Rating: K+**

**Pairing: N/A**

**Genre: General**

**Warnings: Some coarse language**

**Beta'ed by: [Un-Beta'ed]**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Naruto series or the characters related to it.**

**A/N: Naruto's point of view.**

**-Fireworks-**

It happens way too fast. Yes, I know a lot of things happen "ways too fast". This one event changes nothing, in the big context anyway. But to one individual, this one event changes _everything_.

_"The sparkles. They're beautiful. The light. It's shining."_

There is this one night every year where the sky lights up. I enjoy that night of the year more than anything. Even the stars can't compete with the chemical reactions happening in the air. It's funny - I just learned about those in my chemistry book this year. I read it. It was amusing. Especially since I enjoy them so much.

I know things can go wrong tonight. These "reactions" are to blame. The pretty sparkles that burst at the wrong place, at the wrong time... but not here. Not where I am. Never where I am. Not among my friends, not among those I hold close... Everywhere else, yes. Tomorrow I'll read about the boy with third degree burns - the fire went the wrong way. I'll read about the dozens of people who lost their eyes - they left the glasses inside.

That's when - while completely ignorant - it happens. The accidents, they always happen when no one expects it. When the alcohol is churning, when the people around you are laughing... the children are on a legal kind of ecstasy, and so am I - but it doesn't make it any less dangerous.

_"Colors, colors... everywhere, sparkling white... Beautiful..."_

The neighbors brought a box. The kind to hold bottles. They're all empty, the glass bottles. They're reserved for the joy on stakes. We gather and light them up. The children squeal, the adults grin. Hugs are exchanged all around me, along with wishes and grateful words. I receive and give my fair share - my friends, my neighbors, even a stranger. In my haze, I even feel lips upon my cheeks. The night is so beautiful.

The children cheers once again. Their father brings out a fountain of sparkles. It's beautiful, shining lovely with its sparkles. I want to play with sparkles, too. I want to please the children. I want to please myself.

A shooting star in my hand, I approach the box of bottles. The rocket is ready for launch. I'm about to fire it up, carefully keeping an eye on the sparkles. The fountain shines so clearly.

And the unexpected happens.

_"The light... it's so sharp. It's so white... what's that noise?"_

I see the explosion. The light is blinding. I step back, one, two, three... six steps. For each one I realize something.

I hear the explosion, the people gasping. My first step back, and my first thought is: Now I'll never fulfill my dream.

_"I can't... I can't see..."_

It's amazing how much one think of during that one part of a second. The simple thought is elaborated long before I take my second step. I won't fulfill my dream. I won't achieve my goal. This will change my life forever, for I won't be able to read my schoolwork. I won't be able to text with my friends. I won't be able to do so much... I want to cry.

_"It stings. I feel it, it stings... I still can't see- oh fuck, it hurts!"_

On my second step I realize my thoughts are close to become reality. I feel it, in the crook of my right eye, a sharp stinging sensation. I'm hit. I saw the splinters fly. I was hit by one, maybe two, or three... I felt something hit my jacket. One definitely hit my face. It hurts. And I feel alone, left in the darkness as I barely see my feet when I take my third step back.

_"Am I alright...? Will I be fine? It still stings, it still hurts... so bad..."_

And on my third step, I feel a hand on my shoulder, followed by three more on my back. They support me that one second. I can't see who they belong to. But I'm no longer alone. I feel them there, I feel safer, but it still hurts. I hear them speaking. They're talking to be. They're asking me something. I make out a few words. "Are you alright?"

On my fourth step, I still feel the hands. So many more thoughts fill my head. Will they call a medic? Will someone run for a first aid case? Will I be in need of special support? What will happen to me? What's my future going to be like...? Will I need to get a dog, of the kind who leads me through life? Will people still like me, enjoy my company? Actually, who enjoy my company now anyway? What will my godfather say? What will my best friend say? What will they all say...? Am I loved? I still hurts. It's still burning. Will I still be wanted...?

_"I'll make it out, right? No, I'll die won't I? Why won't they answer me? What should I do...?"_

On my fifth step, I lose contact with the hands. I'm too far away for them to grasp me. But then I also realize the stinging is fading. I can keep it to myself. I can hide it, say I'm tired, I'll go home and patch it up. It'll be okay. I fill myself with those thoughts. I can get away, without their pity, without their stares... even in the back of my mind I know it's not quite that simple.

_"The light is fading, I feel... I can't see... It's dark now, I can't see..."_

But on my sixth step I stop. The stinging is faint. I open my eyes.

_"I can see._"

The hands are back again. I brush them off, I answer their questions. I'm alright, I say. The stinging isn't gone. I can still hide minor damage. And at last, they leave me be, teasing me with comments. I must be in a traumatic state, they laugh. I laugh along. I watch the sparkles with them, but I can't enjoy them as much anymore. It still stings, in my eye...

Inside, I approach the mirror. I study my face, the familiar features, and find a black spot on my forehead. I was hit there, too. I brush strands of hair away to see better. Soon the ground is colored blond. Some pieces had been caught in my hair. And I study, anticipating, wishing, wanting...

I see it now, on my lover eyelid. Among my lashes, on the right side of my right eye, a small patch is seen. It's darker than the rest of the skin there. It's burnt flesh.

But my eye is alright. It's still blue, it's still white...

"I can see."

I want to laugh. I want to laugh hard. I show my friends, I show my best friend, my godfather, everyone... they're relieved. I am too. And I laugh a little. They laugh along, plucking on my loose hairs, rubbing on the black patches on my jacket to get them off, rubbing on the spot on my forehead.

But then I cry. I leave the room. Then I cry. I let it all out. Because I realize how much I just gained - and how much I could have lost. Looking at that patch of burnt skin... I realize I was so close.

It all dawns on me. The fountain wasn't supposed to explode. I was right there, five meters away. I was exposed to the splinters, some hit my face. I had stepped back. I had realized what was happening. I was ready for the worst, but luckily greeted by the better.

The patch still stings.

I was so close... so close to ruining _everything_.

_**End**_

**A/N: Written by someone who was barely a millimeter from going blind this New Years eve, and who is lucky to be able to read about those who weren't that lucky. Happy New year everyone.**


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